Insanity Is Not A Diagnosis
by PoisonComeUndone
Summary: Nolanverse/House crossover. Batman/Joker SLASH. Written for Knight vs. Anarchy challenge at lj. Something’s wrong with Joker…well, more than usual. Bruce goes to the best to try and find out what it is…
1. Chapter 1

******So, this is another piece for the Knight vs. Anarchy challenge, round 2 this time. The prompt is crossovers, and it immediately got me thinking of one of my favorite shows, House. The potential interactions of Joker and Bruce and House and Wilson(and Cameron and Chase and…:D)was just too awesome of a thought to let go, so I've been working on this whenever I got a spare moment today. ^^**

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Bruce Wayne leaned across the counter, absently watching the latest report on the news. Nothing too major, though at the moment they were showing follow up stories on those involved in a fire the week before, courtesy of the Joker. Most of the people in the restaurant had survived.

He was still tired from his activites as Batman the night before, and he had already started to run the day ahead of his Bruce Wayne through his thoughts. _I have to make the meeting at 1….after that, I could probably get out of there if I wanted…_

He jerked in shock as strong, thin arms wrapped around his waist, a familiar lean body pressing itself fully against him from behind. "_Mor_ning, sunshine." The voice was even more familiar and his muscles relaxed, body twisted to let him lean back against the counter and wrap his own arms around the other man.

"Where the hell have you been?" His voice was far more angry, more annoyed than he felt. Even if he felt guilty for it, his predominant emotion at having his lover back in his arms was utter relief. No matter what the psychopath did, they were as tied together as he had tried to tell Bruce from the beginning. He had been slow and reluctant on the uptake, but they were as together now as they ever could be, and even Bruce had to admit his life was better for it. No matter how insane that was.

Joker grinned, shrugged his shoulders lightly as he slid his hands up to rest on Bruce's shoulders. "_Around_. Here and there." He licked his lips, leaned in until their foreheads rested against each other. "You've seen me." He cocked his head, feigning thought. "Ah, last night I believe. On 15th, wasn't it? I can't remember…"

Bruce growled, eyes narrowing. "14th, when you blew up that old woman's car. Yes, I remember that vividly, but you haven't been _here_ in at least a week."

"What can I say, Brucey, I'm a free spirit…room to run, all that." He jerked forward and crushed their lips together in a kiss that was somehow rough and tender all at once. "_You_ missed me."

Bruce's heart thumped hard in his chest, warmth he had long ago stopped telling himself he didn't feel spreading through his veins. "Just wondering what you were up to, that's all."

"Mmhm. You know, you're really _not _a very good _liar_, Bats." He left another swift, wet kiss against Bruce's lips before pulling away, almost skipping toward the fridge. "What's for breakfast?"

"It's practically lunch. And get anything you want, I have to go to work." He turned around to switch off the TV, anticipating Joker's arguments. When he didn't get one, he turned around slowly, eyebrows raised. "What, no 'you have obligations to me you haven't- Joker!" One hand was pressed against the refrigerator door, his body almost doubled over, an arm around his waist. Bruce was at his side in an instant, leaning against the door beside him. "Hey. Hey look at me, what's going on?"

The clown didn't look up, merely shook his head jerkily. "I…this…don't feel so…" His knees gave out and fell shakily to the floor, vomiting onto the tile. He still held one hand pressed to the door and it shook a little, nails scraping against the surface.

"Alfred!" Bruce knelt beside him, swept green hair back to press a hand to his paint covered forehead. "It's ok, come on, let's go upstairs…"

Joker was already waving him off, though the skin that did show through the paint looked unnaturally pale. "No, it's fine, I'm fine."

"Like hell you are. Come on." Bruce tugged him against his side, sliding an arm under his shoulder.

Alfred appeared in the doorway then and Bruce flashed him a look laced with worry. "He's sick. I'm going to get him to lie down."

"No, I'm-"

"_Shut_ up, or I'll handcuff you and you won't have a choice." He was silent the rest of the way upstairs and for that Bruce was grateful. It was probably nothing, whatever was wrong, but secretly, Bruce had been afraid of…well not _this_ exactly but something like it. They both led extremely dangerous lives, but Joker's was even more of a mystery than his. It seemed a certainty of probability that the man was going to run out of boundless luck one of these days.

Once he had him in bed Bruce muttered at him to stay there and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a cold cloth for his forehead. Of course, that was a lost cause. Joker's hand shot out to catch his wrist, glaring. "You want me to sit down for a minute, fine. But I don't feel like taking this off right now."

Bruce sighed heavily, glaring. Rather than yell, he resisted the urge, softened his voice instead. "Jack, I'm just worried about you."

"I wonder what would happen to _alllll_ that extra room in your head if you just stopped worrying, hm?" Those entrancing green eyes were glinting almost dangerously, and he knew better than to push him too far.

Bruce let the cloth fall to the floor, tried for a moment to find something to do with his hands before letting one of them fall to Joker's shoulder. "Is there anything else that-"

"Nope, all better now, thanks." He sat up quickly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and preparing to push himself all the way up. He never made it. His arms gave out on him, body twisting as the seizure overtook him.

"Shit." Bruce's hands shot out, grabbing Joker's arms and holding him down. "Alfred! Get up here!"

""""""""""""""""""""

The sound of the file hitting the desk was just loud enough to penetrate through the sounds of Stairway To Heaven in his ears but he ignored it, not even cracking an eye. That is, until his headphones were yanked roughly out of his ears by the cord. House opened his eyes wide enough to glare at his boss, reaching out to snatch the cord back from her. "That's so rude, you know."

"Yeah, well, I learned from the best. Got a case for you."

House shoved at the corner of the file, twirling slightly in his chair. "Just got off a case. My brain needs time to recharge, otherwise I'll be just as worthless as every other doctor that's seen…" His head twisted to look at the name on the file but her hand fell just in time, covering it. "Mr. What's His Name."

Cuddy leaned over his desk to stare him down, eyes narrowing. "You've had a day to recharge. That's plenty. And this case isn't an option, House, you're taking it."

Without taking his eyes off of her he slide one hand into his blazer, pulling out his bottle of Vicodin and shaking it once before unscrewing the lid and tossing one back. He toyed with the cap a moment before screwing back on, letting it drop to the desk top. "You're only ever this insistent if it's personal, which means this is another kid you feel like you're a mission from God to save."

Her glare deepened. "It's not a kid, and it's not personal. Not directly." There, she had his attention. At least for the moment. "The man bringing this patient here is extremely wealthy, and he is willing to pay well not only to see you but to guarantee our secrecy. The donation he has already sent is enough that I am utterly staggered at his generosity, and he has promised more when he takes his partner home. You will take this case, you will cure him, and we will keep this quiet because they want privacy, do you understand?"

His head fell back, looking at the ceiling as he twirled one full spin around in his chair. "Tell me, how does it feel, knowing you have a price? Usually, someone hiding something sets you off into-"

Her hand shot out to stop him mid-spin, catching the arm of his chair. "He's a billionaire, and he wants privacy. I can't _imagine_ why that would be hard to come by." She stepped back, shoving the file closer to him, reaching out to snatch the bottle of pills off his desk and rattle them. "Don't forget, you have a price too." She dropped the pills before he could snap at her, turning quickly and disappearing down the hallway.

He waited until he couldn't hear her heels anymore to open the file.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A/N: Don't worry, though there will be instances of Bruce taking care of Joker in this, he's not going to be all vulnerable!Joker…I have some good ideas for mayhem he can cause around the hospital. :D


	2. Chapter 2

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

House shoved the door to the conference room open just enough to toss four files onto the table. "Tell me what's wrong with this picture. Go." He slipped his head back through the door, limping over to his desk to take off his coat.

"There's…practically nothing here." 13 flipped through the two pages the file had held, forehead knitting together. "No concrete age, no parental history…there's not even any of his _own_ history outside of the past year, and even that's sketchy." She looked up, first at Foreman then at House, who had returned to sit at the head of the table. "How did Cuddy even get you to take this case?"

"Our Mystery Man has friends in high places…and by friends, I mean his boyfriend is billionaire Bruce Wayne."

There was shocked silence at the table for a moment before Taub spoke up. "Bruce Wayne? He's _here_ in Princeton? Would have thought news like that would make the front page."

"Apparently, it's a big _secret_…which either means all this mystery is hiding something important, _or_ he just doesn't want to break it to all the models throwing themselves at his feet that they don't have the right equipment." House tapped his cane on the edge of the table, deciding. "Whatever he wants to keep from the public, fine, but I need to know everything. You and you," He used the cane to point at 13, then Taub, "Go get me a better history. The rest of you, feel free to ponder our non-existent set of information until they get back."

""""""""""""""""""""

"Will you _stop_ that?" Bruce jerked Joker's hand away from his IV line for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning.

"I don't need it."

"I am not going over this with you again." He turned to fully face the very unhappy man in the bed, looking even more uncomfortable and out of place without his characteristic makeup. "Look, this Dr. House is supposed to be the best in the country, alright? If anyone can get this done quickly, he can. Then we can get back home."

"…I'm hungry."

"Well, after they've stopped by and told me if you _can_ eat, I'll go get you something. Alright?"

The door slid open and Bruce stood to greet whoever it was, his nerves jangling at the prospect of introducing anyone to Joker. "Good morning, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Napier, I'm Dr. Hadley and this is Dr. Taub." She smiled warmly, shook Bruce's hand before stepping close to the bed. "Would it be alright if I asked you a few questions?"

Bruce's heart skipped anxiously. "Maybe I should-"

"Mr. Wayne, if you could come with me, we have some questions for you also." The other doctor was indicating he should follow him out into the hall, but Bruce wasn't at all sure about actually doing that. Leaving Joker alone with this poor woman didn't seem safe.

He hesitated, dark eyes locking with shimmering green. "Cooperate."

"Who, me?" He flashed a yellowed smile, holding his palms up innocently. "What do you think _I'm _going to do?"

His voice dropped to a murmur, doing his best to keep it semi-private though he knew they could likely hear anyway. "The answer to that had better be 'nothing'."

Reluctantly, he followed Taub out into the hallway. The doctor motioned for him to sit down on a bench, smiling in an understanding way. "Bit of a handful?"

"You have no idea." Bruce ran a hand over his eyes, tried to shake a little bit of his frustration at having to do this at all. Nothing about the situation was anywhere near ideal, but at least they had agreed to keep their mouths shut. So long as there were no deaths, he was fairly certain his money could keep them quiet. "So…" he sighed heavily, smiled a little as he turned to face Taub. "What do you need to know?"

"Well, honestly, Mr. Wayne, pretty much any information would be helpful. We have very little in the file on his history and-"

"I've told you everything I know. Jack, he…" Bruce shook his head, trying to phrase it as well as he could without giving too much away. "He doesn't remember what happened to him, where he came from. He remembers that his name is Jack Napier but he knows nothing other than that, not even where he was born or grew up. He's not even sure how old he is, though we estimate he's in his mid-20's. I know it isn't much, but we just don't know."

Taub paused, processing. "I see. Well, how long have you known Jack?"

"How long have I _known_ him? Three years. We've been…together for almost two, and for the last year he's been almost moved in." It seemed odd, saying it like that. In those words, they sounded almost like a normal couple. Nevermind that the start of them being 'together' had been an angry fuck on a dock in the Narrows, when he said it like this, they sounded close to healthy.

"Alright. And has he been healthy during that time?"

Bruce shut his eyes as he thought, a headache coming on. This was harder than he had expected, examining just how much he _didn't_ know. "I…would say so, relatively. If there was something wrong, he wouldn't have told me. I doubt he'd even have noticed all that much himself. He has a…" _How do I phrase this?_ "A very high tolerance to pain."

"So he wasn't complaining of anything before the vomiting and seizure on Friday?"

The thought of Joker complaining about anything related to his health would have been laughable if Bruce hadn't been so worried. "No. Not a thing. But that doesn't mean nothing was wrong prior to Friday, just that he had kept quiet about it. And I hadn't seen him for a week and a half, so if there _was_ something going on during that time, I wouldn't know. And…he probably wouldn't tell you." He held a hand out, stopping the admonishment he was sure was coming. "Look, I know how this must sound, and I can imagine that this must be really difficult for you, but I've given you all the information I have, and I'll give you any more I can get out of him. Whatever he tells you directly, you shouldn't trust because he pretty much defines habitual liar, but I can sometimes get him to tell me the truth. Just…just don't write this off, alright? I know there's something really wrong with him, even if he won't admit it."

Taub nodded, seeming to understand. "Don't worry Mr. Wayne. Dr. House is an excellent doctor. We'll be doing everything we can. Still…" He hesitated, seeming uncertain of his next words. "Anything you _can_ learn, especially about family history or anywhere he might have been lately…"

"If I find anything out, I'll tell you."

"""""""""""""""""""""""

She had tried to keep her eyes away from them from the moment she walked into the room, honestly, but the scars on this mans face just kept drawing her gaze. Being a doctor she should have been better about ignoring the things people didn't want noticed…even more than that, having Huntington's she should have known better. Still, there was something about those scars… "How are you feeling today, Mr. Napier?"

"Curious, hm? About the scars?" He avoided the question, taking in instead the look in her eyes. He gestured at his lips with one hand, ran his tongue along the inside of the cuts. "Guess how I got 'em?"

"I…I wouldn't have any idea."

"I was in high school, 15 years old. There were these kids, jocks. I was always the _nerd_, see, always the one they _picked_ on." He ran his tongue along his scars again, grinning widely before he continued. "Well, they had played another one of their tricks on me that day, and they were rubbing it in after school. The biggest ones, they grabbed me and threw me down on the picnic table, held me down and said that I had no sense of _humor_, that maybe if I smiled more, I'd learn to appreciate their jokes. So they took my own pocketknife and gave me these." He traced the slashes with a finger this time, smiling all the while. "And then, I never could stop smiling. So in a way, they were right! It does help to see the glass half full, wouldn't you say?"

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her skin crawling. "That's horrible! What happened to the kids, they were…surely your parents were able to get them on assault charges?"

The glimmer of humor in his eyes went cold suddenly, smile fading. "Never had any parents."

"So you were adopted?" This was, at least, leading into information she needed to have. "Is Napier your biological parents name or-"

"_No_, I wasn't adopted and no I can't answer any questions about my damn family." His eyes were, if possible even colder and there was a tone to his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. "And it's just Jack." His gaze fell, one jittery hand moving to toy with his IV line.

"Don't do that, you need it." Before she could stop herself her hand shot out to grab his wrist and he jerked his hand back as if he'd been scalded, the wild look on his features more like that of a trapped animal than a man. "Sorry." She stepped back slowly, carefully. "I didn't mean to startle you. Just…leave the line alone, ok?" He said nothing, continuing to stare her down with wary eyes. "Alright so…no family history. Just…personal history then. Do you drink?"

"When the occasion presents itself. Brucey throws some _great _parties."

He was grinning again, mood seeming to snap back in place within half a second. Still a little rattled, 13 smiled back. Luckily, she was used to dealing with difficult patients. "Alright, so…just sometimes?"

"Mmhm."

"Smoke?"

"If I happen to be on _fire_, heh heh"

She let herself laugh with him, some of her discomfort fading. "Good one. Before last week, have you been having any problems? Nausea, headaches, dizziness?"

"Which fits with something you can drug me quickly for? I'm ready to get out of here."

Barely resisting a sigh of frustration, she smiled a little. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. We need to know what's actually been going on with you, otherwise nothing we do is going to do you any good."

The door slide open then, Bruce stepping back in. "See? Nothing wrong with me."

"Very funny, she hasn't even tested you for anything yet." Bruce leaned against the bar on the bed, facing her. She couldn't help but notice how very much older he looked than his years. He couldn't be much past his 20's, she knew, but he certainly looked far more troubled, at least through his eyes. "Any ideas yet, Dr. Hadley?"

"As Dr. Taub probably already told you, I'm afraid we don't have much to go on. Are you sure there have been no other symptoms?"

Bruce twisted his neck to look back at Jack, all seriousness. "Can't you remember something? Anything that might have been off, even a little?"

He smiled wickedly, focused on Bruce. "I _suppose_ my head's been a little funny, but then that tends to happen when it meets pavement frequently so I'm not really sure that's a symptom, Brucey."

For a moment he seemed on the verge of saying something else but if he was, he caught it. Bruce looked back at her, his gaze almost steady. "Frequent headaches? That tell you anything?"

"It…might. It's a start at least. He mentioned pavement has he-"

Bruce grimaced, arms folding over his chest. "He's rather…reckless."

"Yes, I'm very into the _extreme _sports, aren't I?" His laugh was loud and startling, complete with a tinge of madness that had her skin crawling all over again.

"Well, head injury could explain-"

"_No_!" The outburst was short-lived, Bruce seeming almost embarrassed at how emphatically he had denied it. "The…for him, that's normal. It's not head injuries. Trust me."

"All the same, we might want to get an MRI to check for any swelling." It wasn't much, but at least it was a direction for them to take, for the time being. "We're going to meet and discuss with Dr. House, and a doctor from our team will be by in a little while to tell you what's going on, alright?"

Bruce nodded, smiling politely. "Thank you, Dr. Hadley." She had turned around and was almost at the door before she heard a slight flurry of movement from behind her, followed by, "Dr. Hadley? Would it be alright if he had some dinner? I wasn't sure if he should eat before we came down here, you know."

"That should be fine, since we haven't decided yet what we're going to do. He may need a test that requires fasting tomorrow, but right now he can have whatever he wants."

Bruce smiled wider, charming. "Great. Thank you." As she turned back to the door, she noticed he had one of Jack's hands pinned to the bed behind his back.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""


	3. Chapter 3

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"I am _not_ eating hospital food." Joker glared at the plate with distaste and something like disappointment before cutting his eyes at Bruce. "I want real food."

"Since when did you get so picky?"

"Since I know you have the money to pay for it, rich boy."

Bruce sighed. "And you really expect me to leave you here while I go out and get you something? I'm trying to get them to treat you, not commit you…and if you do any number of the things I know you're quite capable of they-"

"Oh will you relax? I came, didn't I?"

Really, he did have a point. He had seemed a little subdued after his seizure, either more startled by it or in more pain than he was letting on. Either way, he had cooperated marginally well with Bruce throughout the trip, and he hadn't absolutely terrified the doctor. His behavior had been nowhere near as horrible as it could have been. "Yes. You did." Bruce leaned over him to brush a strand of hair away from his face, still unadjusted to the bleached color of it. As crazy as it might have been, he preferred the green. It suited him. "Alright. What do you want?"

Joker's eyes danced, possibilities running through his head. "A cheeseburger."

"That's what I brought you, what you have already!"

"But it's hospital food."

He sounded remarkably like a four year old, and Bruce couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Fine. A non-hospital cheeseburger. Shouldn't be too hard to come by."

He caught Bruce's hand with one of his own, turning his head to bite gently into his wrist, then lap softly at the teeth marks. "Don't be long. I'll be _bored_."

"Oh, that reminds me. Here." Reaching into his coat pocket Bruce pulled out a pack of playing cards, tossing them onto the rolling table. "Knock yourself out. I'll be back in 10 minutes." He leaned further over him, eyes burning with seriousness. "If you go anywhere, I'm having them tie you down."

"…you wouldn't. Not here." He leaned forward, almost close enough for the tips of their noses to touch. "You want to keep a low _profile_."

"Try me then."

""""""""""""""""""""

"I tell you to get me a history, and all you can tell me is that the guy's had a few headaches of unknown severity that may or may not be related to frequent run ins with the ground? What the hell am I paying you for?" House glared at them all for a long, silent moment before turning to write the new symptom on the white board.

Foreman was the first to speak up. "Frequent headaches combined with recent nausea, could point to a brain tumor."

"And the neurologist leaps to the brain, just because he has nothing else to go on. Isn't that kind of tragic?"

"I'm not leaping. 13 said he showed definite psych symptoms, and Taub said the partner confirmed he's a habitual liar. Without leaping to conclusions, if we combine that with what we already have, seems to me it points pretty clearly to a brain problem. A tumor's the simplest to rule out, we can go from there."

"Good." House nodded, tapped his cane against the board. "Supporting your crazy assumption, I like it. But what I don't like, to pick from a long, long list, is the fact that we have no previous records and therefore no basic bloodwork. Although, I would have had you redo it anyway. Kutner, go get me some blood from our _happy_ patient. If that comes back with no obvious problems, which it probably will, schedule him for an MRI and a chat with Wilson."

Kutner had barely been gone five minutes when House's cell phone rang. "What, do you need me to _help_ you?"

"He's gone."

"""""""""""""""""""

He was back in just over 15 minutes instead of 10, due largely to the fact that he didn't really know the area. The line he had had to wait in at Hardee's really hadn't helped either.

He knew, really, from the moment he had stepped out the door, but it was confirmed when he rounded the corner and saw the empty bed. _Gone._ "Perfect." He muttered it angrily, stepping inside the room just long enough to toss the food on the table and note the bloodied needle Joker had torn from his hand. "_Perfect_."

His mind was racing as he all but ran from the room, trying to calculate. Given run of the hospital, where would he have gone… Bruce was _almost_ certain that he wouldn't have actually left the building. Almost. So, for the time being, he was going to only think inside it. And considering he knew next to nothing about the floor plan, he was groping around blindly. He slid into an elevator, mashing the button for the next floor.

He stepped out into a hallway that looked almost identical to the one he had left, same central water fountains near the nurse's station. After looking quickly both ways he decided to go left first, walking as quickly as he could without attracting too much attention. Around the corner the walls turned brightly colored behind the glass and his pulse raced, looking more carefully now. It was the pediatrics ward, hence the bright colors, which would have been plenty enough to attract Joker.

Sure enough, he was there at the end of the hallway in a group playroom, dressed in a nurse's outfit and sitting cross legged on the floor around a small tea table…along with a handful of kids. Bruce sped up, coming through the door at just the moment Joker said,

"So…who wants to see a magic trick, hm?"

Letting out a hard, angry breath Bruce grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him to his feet. "Playtime's over. Come on."

Joker growled but didn't fight him hard, only swung one arm around to clamp a hand vice tight around his forearm. "Now, now Bruce…there are children here."

"Sorry, kids. Keep playing." His voice was cold and monotone, and he said it without ever looking down. Quickly, he tugged Joker out of the room, waiting until he found a broom closet to wrench it open and pull them both inside. "What the hell were you doing? I told you to keep a low profile, how the fuck does that translate into killing small children?"

Joker leaned back against the door, rolling his eyes. "_Sooo_ melodramatic. I wasn't going to _kill_ them, you would have gotten pissed. I was just having a bit of fun." He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring. "A concept foreign to you, I know."

"Look, I don't mind you having your fun with me. _With_. _Me_. Do you understand? And at home in Gotham, I know there's going to be times you…do things I'd rather you not, hell, you do it all the time but while we're-"

Joker darted forward, arms wrapping around Bruce's neck to pull him back against the door with him. He was unbalanced, startled, and his full weight pressed against Joker for a moment before he caught himself on one hand. Joker moaned appreciatively, tightening his grip.

Bruce was shocked, overwhelmed with the sensation of it, and for a moment he could do nothing but return the kiss. This man was an addiction for him, and he hadn't tasted him since early that morning, hadn't gone farther than simple kisses with him in almost two weeks. He pressed closer against him, groaning into Joker's mouth at the way he wriggled against him, one leg rising on his hip. Bruce's hand fell to pull it higher, sliding the nurse's skirt up as he did and realizing how _very_ much he appreciated the lack of pants.

It was that realization that shocked some sense into him and he pulled back with a gasp, shaking his head. "We can't…we can't do this here. Not now."

Joker made a soft whining noise, pulled Bruce back close enough to make him hiss when Joker rolled his hips against him. "Yes. Yes we can." He tugged on Bruce's collar, pulled it to the side just enough to bite down hard on his collarbone. "Want you."

The bite was painful, hard enough to bruise but he was more than used to. He enjoyed being marked, now. He took a deep breath, reminded himself why they had to stop. This time he pulled back all the way, disengaging from Joker's reaching arms. "Yes, well, I'd like that too but not right now. You're sick, and we have to get you back. And no, don't argue with me on that. And where the hell is the poor woman you took this from?"

Joker giggled, head rolling back to look up at the ceiling as he thought. "She's, ah, fourth floor. Supply closet. There were two of them with the kids, so her buddy's in there too…_her_ clothes were more colorful but they wouldn't fit."

"Well, that's a pity." Bruce muttered it under his breath, pushing Joker out of the way to tug the door open. "Come on, let's go get her her dress back and your gown back on, then we'll get back to your room. Your food's probably cold, by the way. Next time you want something so desperately, don't go disappearing on me."

A soft thud behind him alerted Bruce, and he spun around to see Joker collapsed on the floor, twitching. "God, not _now_." He dropped to his knees, unsure of how to hold him, if he even should. He shoved the door open wide, called into the hallway. "Nurse! I need some help in here!"

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A/N: Don't worry, meeting House and Wilson is on the way, we're just not there yet. :D


	4. Chapter 4

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"So, I take it we found our runaway patient?" House barely glanced up from his computer, the question directed at 13 who had just all but skidded through the doorway.

"The nurses did. In a closet on the third floor, with Mr. Wayne. And he's had another seizure."

That got his attention completely. "Wait, seriously? They were in a closet?"

"And…he was wearing a nurse's uniform. Apparently he got bored when Mr. Wayne went out to get lunch and he went up to pediatrics, found a nurse, took the outfit and gave her his gown, and went back downstairs." She looked both thoroughly shocked and annoyed, but also slightly amused. "Think Foreman's right about the brain problem now?"

"Closet, nurse uniform...kinky, but not consistent with _them_ coming to _us_ for help." He pushed away from his desk and pulled his cane into his hand, heading over to the door. "What is it about the closets around here? Chase and Cameron, now-"

"They _weren't_ doing anything. Mr. Wayne went looking for him, said he found him in there."

"Would this be an appropriate time for a joke about one of them still being closeted?"

13 rolled her eyes. "Yes. Sure. After that, maybe we can focus on the patient and the fact that whatever he has seems to be worsening. Kutner's on his way to go draw blood now."

He tossed his cell phone into her hand, pulling open the door. "Call him off."

"I…why?'

"Because, I'm doing it. I want to meet the patient."

"""""""""""""""""""

"How are you feeling?"

"…like my head hit the floor, what do you expect?"

Bruce sighed, leaned over in his chair to rest his elbows on the bed. "You had a seizure. I have no idea _how_ that might leave you feeling." Shoving the chair away from the bed he paced, shaking his head. "I should have noticed something sooner…."

"Find anything interesting in the closet?"

Bruce turned to face the man just coming through the door, leaning heavily on a cane. "You're Dr. House."

"Yes, I am. And you're the guy with enough money to buy the hospital." His turned to Joker, eyes running over him. "And you must be the nurse-wannabe."

Bruce cringed internally, spoke up before Joker had a chance. "I'm sorry about that, I just left to get him some lunch and-"

"Not interested." He pulled up a rolling stool and sat down by the bed, scooting closer to the railing. "I need to draw some blood, find out -."

"What _drugs_ I'm taking? Sorry to disappoint you, but that's just not _me_." Joker stretched his arm out obediently enough, but the smile he was giving House worried Bruce more than a little.

"Oh, if I had a nickel for every patient that told me 'I'm not on drugs, because I'm a _good_ person', I'd be...well, not doing this, obviously."

"I never said I was a good person, _doctor_." The needle slid into his veins then and he hummed in pleasure, closing his eyes and relaxing into the pain.

House's forehead furrowed slightly, overwhelmed with curiosity. "You enjoy that?"

Hurriedly, Bruce started to answer for him. "He-"

"I don't recall asking you." He didn't even spare Bruce a glance, his attention focused on Joker. "The pain, has it started to feel good recently?"

Joker's eyes opened slowly as House pulled the needle out, ran his tongue along his scars as his smile widened. "I find pain to be one of the beautifully_ immersive_ aspects of life. It's such a waste, isn't it, not to learn to _enjoy_ it?"

"…right." House pushed away from the bed, tucking the vial of blood into his pocket. His eyes skimmed absently over the pattern of scars on Joker's exposed arms. "You either do a job with heavy equipment at which you're very, very bad or you spend a lot of time knife fighting. _Or_ these are your handiwork." The question lingered in unspoken suggestion, and from the flicker of House's eyes between the two of them it was clear he wasn't sure which one was responsible.

Joker smoothed one hand over the scars, grinning smugly. "Aren't you more curious how I got these?' he gestured at the corners of his lips, eyes sparkling. "They're more, ah, _interesting_."

"My faithful underling already told me, sorry to cut the story short." House stood, shoving the stool back toward the bed. "Someone from my dream team will be by in a few hours to tell you when you'll be having your MRI tomorrow. At some point before then, Dr. Wilson will probably be by to talk to you about a potential diagnosis."

"Which is?" Bruce's tone made him unavoidable, commanding attention.

"At this point, the most likely suspect is a brain tumor." With that, he turned and walked out the door.

It took Bruce a breath or two to restart his thoughts, he wasn't sure how long. As soon as he could manage it he took off after him, catching up with House just before the elevators. "Dr. House!"

House sighed, didn't turn. "Look, it might be operable, but we won't know until we do the MRI."

"Are you basing this off of Jack's…behavior? Because if you are-"

House turned to face him then, clearly exasperated. "I'm sure to you he's the image of well adjusted perfection. There's a reason love is blind, otherwise most of us would be screwed if anything happened to us. _However_, that doesn't mean he's got everything all turned on upstairs, it just means that you've conveniently not noticed."

Bruce couldn't help laughing, and for a moment he wondered just how much like Joker he would become, in the end. It would have been a disturbing thought if his mind hadn't been so occupied. "You think…you think I don't know he's crazy? That he has problems?" He sobered up a little, the laughter fading into seriousness. "I _live_ with him. Trust me; he's been the model of good behavior here. His…insanity is absolutely real, but it's not a symptom. It's just…Jack."

That wasn't exactly what House was expecting to hear, but it didn't set his argument back, either. "And just because this is the way he's been since you've known him doesn't mean it's not a symptom." He turned around to punch the elevator button with his cane, tiring of the conversation. "Think of it this way, if everything goes well he could end up being easier to take out in public."

Bruce stepped in front of him, blocking the door. "I don't care about that. And I'm not wrong, this isn't a symptom. Whatever's wrong with him, it's recent. He's been like this for years."

"_Or_ it isn't a tumor, but whatever it is _has_ been affecting him for years." Annoyed, he waited until the doors opened to push past Bruce and slip inside. "Leave the diagnosing to us, it's what you're paying a small, small fraction of your fortune for. If you want to help, go keep Houdini in bed."

Bruce watched the door shut wordlessly, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He hated the constraints he was under here, hated having to _just_ be semi-clueless Bruce Wayne. He was Batman too, dammit, and while he might not have been a doctor he was almost certain he knew enough to know he wasn't wrong about this. Whatever it was, it wasn't a brain problem. At least, not in the way they were thinking.

Still, however angry he might be, there was worry he couldn't shake mixed in as well. Nothing about the thought of a brain tumor sounded promising, and his mind had latched onto the way House had said it _might_ be operable, if that were the case…

He tore his gaze away from the closed door and stalked back down the hallway, increasing his speed as he reached the door and saw Joker swinging his legs over the side of the bed, hand fiddling with his IV. He caught both his wrists easily, pinning them to the bed before shoving him back.

"Don't even think about it."

"I don't _need_ to be here."

Bruce all but collapsed into the chair by the bed, tired of the argument. "Yeah, you're the picture of health. Right up until the moment you collapse. What about your head, how often does it hurt?"

"Oh, so maybe he's right about my _brain_, hm?"

"_Jack_…" Everything about his tone made it crystal clear he wasn't in the mood, but even so he was pleasantly surprised to feel Joker's grip on his chin, turning his head to face him.

"_Lighten_ up, Bats. I'm fine."

"Let them be the judge of that, alright? Just…humor me."

Joker grinned, teasing. "I do _that_ all the time." Against his will, Bruce's lips twitched into a smile. "_There _it is. A _smile_." Joker sat up and leaned forward to kiss him, deceptively gentle at first before he nipped hard at Bruce's lip. "You're always _such_ a pessimist."

"Yeah, well, I have to balance you out, don't I?" As worried as he was, though, Joker had at least distracted him a little, for the moment. "You still hungry? Think you could eat something?"

"Is that really a question?"

"Yeah, alright, hold on." He pulled the rolling table toward the bed, handing Joker the Hardee's bag. "It's cold."

"Well, I'm not _picky_."

"""""""""""""""""

House barged into Wilson's office, immediately falling back on his sofa. "Need a consult."

Wilson barely raised his eyes from the file on his desk. "On that special request patient Cuddy took?"

"Could have a brain tumor. _Definitely _crazy." House twirled his cane over his head easily. "I told them you'd be by to talk to them."

Wilson nodded slowly, thinking. "I can, I have time. Have _you_ talked to them about the diagnosis?"

"…Briefly. The boyfriend insists I'm wrong, cause apparently playboys come out at the top of their class these days."

"Yes, well, I know you don't understand this, House, but no one likes hearing the person they're in love with is could be dying of a brain tumor. That does tend to trigger all sorts of emotions, and denial is a fairly common one." Wilson flipped the file shut, trailed his fingertips over the name. "I'll talk to them as soon as I'm done here, another hour or so. He's scheduled for an MRI?"

"Bright and early."

"So…how crazy is he? I heard he ran away from you earlier."

"Ran away, and managed to freak 13 out, though she's denying it." House tossed his cane once and caught it, twisted his head to see Wilson's expression. "Can I come to the consult? I'd like to see what he does to you."

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A/N: Sorry this one took a couple days to get up, sleep and school and…grrr, lol

Thanks so much for all the awesome comments! :D


End file.
